


Pandora's Box

by Half_PintGladiator



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Adult Content, Adultery, Asphyxiation, Awkward Flirting, Dominance, Drunken Confessions, Dubious Consent, F/F, Gen, Hook-Up, Humiliation, Multi, Nude Photos, One Shot Collection, Pining, Situational Humiliation, Stripping, Torture, Unrequited Love, Verbal Humiliation, a date with rosy palms, rarepair
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-15 07:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 12,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9225482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Half_PintGladiator/pseuds/Half_PintGladiator
Summary: A collection of One shots from the Borderlands 'verse. Mostly raunchy, rare-pair stuff.





	1. Captain's Stash

**Author's Note:**

> This first entry is a beltated birthday gift to ForYeWhoArtLiterate. He gave me a prompt and I ran with it.

Nisha wasn’t exactly sure what she was looking at. Her lips moved but no words came out. Scarlett was crouched over an ammo crate on the other side of her cabin, picking through the contents of the makeshift loot crate. A psycho mask was went flying behind her after a particularly good throw. It landed in the corner of the room with a thump. Nisha’s gaze fell back on the image before her. She was really beginning to regret agreeing to help Scarlett sort through her treasures. 

She risked another look at the picture. She looked back up at Scarlett. Back to the photo. Obviously someone else had taken the picture. Scarlett couldn’t angle her arm to get that good of a shot solo. Nisha was leery of the fact that all Scarlett wore in the picture was her hat and a rather wicked little smile. Despite herself she had a hard time tearing her eyes from the lithe, tan body in the photograph. She had a feeling it was from when Scarlett and Moxxi were together. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn’t hear Scarlett’s uneven footfalls behind her. 

“You got awfully quiet. I was worried you were plotting something.”

Nisha tried to toss the photo aside, but the glossy surface stuck to her glove. A burning heat rushed to her cheeks and chest. Scarlett snagged the picture, her face lighting up with a grin. 

“Oh-ho! No wonder you’re flustered! I told you I’m quite a looker.”

“What the fuck, Scar?”

“Never took souvenir photos, did you?”

“Usually you keep pics of the other person, Scar.” Nisha shifted her feet; Scarlett was much too close for comfort at that point and her leering grin was making her nervous.

“I found this quite flattering. That it and it was only a casual fling.”

“Let me guess, with the planetary slut.”

Scarlett draped her good arm around Nisha’s shoulders. Her eye had a mischievous gleam to it. Nisha tried inching away, but the grip on her shoulders was much tighter than she initially anticipated. Great. 

“Sounds like you’re jealous. I’ll happily keep one of you, Nish.”

Nisha drew in a sharp breath and expelled it. The heat was back in her cheeks and rapidly spreading. Suddenly she regretted wearing her leathers. She tugged at the collar of her overcoat. Scarlett leaned closer, grin firmly in place.

“I don’t hear you saying no, love.”

“I have a boyfriend, Scar.”

“Oh come on, Jack doesn’t have to know. It’ll be our little secret.”

“You suck at keeping secrets, Scar.”

“Stick in the mud.”

Scarlett’s shoulders drooped as she heaved an overly dramatic sigh. She took a few steps away from Nisha after releasing her grip on her friend’s shoulders. Nisha soon realized that she wasn’t thinking straight, especially after she opened her mouth.

“Maybe one day I’ll take you up on it. Just not now.”

Scarlett reeled around, baring teeth in a huge grin that looked absolutely painful. Nisha rubbed at her own cheeks, feeling a subconscious ache in her jaw. Oh she was definitely going to regret that. All of that. Mostly she’d regret stealing the picture from Scarlett when the pirate was distracted by shiny baubles.


	2. A Taste of Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested by trashcandy as a birthday gift. I was given either Gaigel fluff or this. Surprisingly, I took the low road. There is potential for this one to be continued.

Sanctuary was silent, still and calm. It didn’t explain why Maya’s heart was racing. She crept toward the Pierce Station, breath hitching in her throat at the slightest motion of the shadows. She had a problem. An addiction to rival Lilith’s Eridium habit and it was just as dangerous. Drawing a shaky breath, she booted the Fast Travel. She fumbled with the controls until her trembling hands found the destination she so desperately sought: Lynchwood. 

Curfew had settled into place three hours earlier. The only signs of life in the dusty borough were wild skags and the night deputies on high alert for vault hunters. Maya wrapped herself in shadows, willing her heartbeat slow. In darkness, she found the meeting spot. Soundlessly she slipped the steel door open and crept into the sheriff’s building. The holding cells were devoid of life, the would-be jail as still as a crypt. Her footfalls made no sound as she climbed the concrete stairs. Ascending to her descent into depravity. A long night spent in the company of…

The sheriff had her elbows propped on the sill of a barred window, her face framed by shadow and moonlight. In the darkness, her gold eyes glinted like her badge. She took a pull from a whisky bottle, ignoring Maya’s presence.

“Didn’t think you were gonna come.”

“It’s our last chance to do this. I… Uh, didn’t want to miss it.”

Nisha pulled off her hat, tossing in onto the desk beside her. A soft huff left her lips. She took another pull from her bottle before rising to her feet. Maya could feel those hawkish eyes tracking over her. The warm bottle was thrust into her hands.

“Have a drink. Get yourself ready. I’ve got a little something to take care of.”

Nisha drew back her trench coat just enough to expose the gleaming pistol at her hip. Maya’s eyes stayed locked onto the skin tight leather pants instead. Nisha left without a word, just a tiny grim smirk. Who needed foreplay when she could just go and kill a bandit in cold blood? As soon as Nisha left, Maya drew in a few slow breaths and started on pulling off her combat gear. 

It was funny how Maya could still feel a chill in the middle of a warm night. She took a long pull of whisky. It was smooth until the burn hit. Heat radiated through her chest. She nearly dropped the bottle at the first gunshot. Pulse pounding, she took another gulp. The slight chill she felt was replaced with a rush of warmth that wasn’t just from the booze. She could already smell the acrid gunpowder, coppery blood, and heat of Nisha’s leathers. She could practically taste the booze on her lover’s lips. She didn’t need another dose of liquid courage. The biggest struggle came from keeping herself from started even before Nisha returned; she knew she should have been appalled, but something made it all the more tantalizing. 

A shudder of anticipation coursed through her when she heard footsteps on the concrete stairs. Thick heels clicked over the wood-covered floors of the office-bedroom Nisha called home. Maya could hear the creak of leather followed by the soft thump of a heavy coat hitting the floor. A dull, pleasant ache blossomed below her belt.

“They taught ya well in the monastery, huh? If I had more time, I’d break it outta ya.”

Nisha circled her, staying just out of reach. She tossed her vest aside, hawkish gaze sweeping over the siren once more. Maya tried to hold still, but tension lined her lithe frame. Nisha may have been wiry and slim, but Maya knew power when she saw it.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Quick as a rattlesnake, Nisha was on her. A single, calloused palm wrapped around her throat. A slow grin worked its way across Nisha’s face, her eyes narrowing dangerously as she applied pressure. Blackness crept in on the edge of Maya’s vision. Darkness threatened to overtake her when there was a burst of light, of color. Maya heard herself moan even before the tight grip on her throat loosened.It had all happened so fast. Her brain struggled to catch up. The world spun as she tried to catch her breath. She wasn’t given long before Nisha resumed her attack.

The chair toppled over, spilling them both onto the hardwood floor. Maya struggled to loosen Nisha’s belt in the flurry of rough kisses. Eventually she managed to slip a hand into Nisha’s tight leather pants. The pressure and odd angle made her hand cramp almost immediately. Her discomfort went unnoticed when she felt teeth dig into her shoulder. At some point, Nisha had kicked the chair away. Maya had lost track of her position in the room not long after hitting the floor. 

She knew she was wrong and that she really shouldn’t enjoy being pounded into a hardwood floor by perhaps the most evil person on all of Pandora, but hell, it was worth the ingot of shame she felt. Well worth the cost.


	3. Did You Think I Forgot?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anon request from Tumblr.  
> Transferred from my Oneshots collection.

The sun beat down on the red sand, its light harsh as the high heat. Scarlett’s eyes narrowed as she adjusted her hat. Treasure was all right and good, but sometimes a promise was far more important than booty. Well, one kind of booty.

She leaned heavily on a steel rail, gaze sweeping the searing sands and the bow of her pride and joy. It wouldn’t be the first time she was left high and dry. It sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to be stood up by one of the most powerful women on all of Pandora.

For once the smile was wiped off of Scarlett’s face. Daydreams about dark red hair and yellow eyes would haunt her for a while. Or at least until the next port.

She held perfectly still, no mean feat, when she heard hushed footfalls.

“Like I told you, killer, I wouldn’t forget.”

“You’re late.”

“I had god business to attend to. Things got messy.”

Scarlett allowed herself a half turn. She refused to admit she was overjoyed that Lilith didn’t forget her promise.

“No rest for the wicked, hm?”

“I didn’t come here to rest.”

Scarlett could feel the burning heat of Lilith’s tattoos through her breeches. The siren had a firm grip that screamed of her temporary claim on the pirate. Pirate’s booty indeed.


	4. Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A anon request from Tumblr.   
> Originally from my Oneshots collection.   
> It was supposed to be more NSFW-ish, but seems I missed the boat this time around.

Steele liked pushing her assassins until they either were on the verge of breaking or until they broke completely. There were a select few that she liked to push harder and harder in hopes of completely crushing the fighting spirit out of them. Athena was one of the stubborn few that resisted her brainwashing. That was willing to fight back. Every opportunity she had, Steele was after her. Toying with her, messing with her mind.

“Come on now, my dead Großmutter could hit harder than that! And I killed her myself!” Her accent was thick, the words spat harshly as she ducked out of the way of a wide swing.

Athena snarled, lunging at Steele, twin plasma swords arcing wide. In the blink of an eye, the siren was behind her, then back in front of her, her strong fingers closing over Athena’s throat.

“Are you even trying? Have I taught you nothing?”

Despite the crushing grip on her windpipe, Athena grinned. She had one strongly muscled leg wrapped around Steele’s hip.Taking one choking breath, she threw her body weight backwards, dragging the commandant down with her. A fist smashed into the concrete next to her head the instant they were sprawled on the ground. At least the grip around her throat was gone.

“Oh, you think you are clever. Clever will get you nowhere. Clever will get you dead. I did not train you to be–”

Steele was cut off when slightly chapped lips pressed hard to hers. She slammed Athena hard against the concrete floor of the hangar they used for sparring. Even through a grunt of pain, Athena refused to back down. Her distraction technique worked a little too well. She nearly choked when a tongue slipped into her mouth.

At some point her armor was tossed aside. Athena took some glee in ripping apart Steele’s stupid non-regulation vest. Not that she could revel in her victory long when her combat suit was torn open with superhuman strength. Cold concrete bit at her skin. Furiously blazing siren tattoos burned her eyes.

Steele’s teeth sank into her shoulder. Through the pain, Athena managed to take a hold of Steele’s braids. She pulled until Steele backed off, only to be slammed back to the floor once more.

“I am the commander, you obey me.”

“Like fuck I do.”

“Speak that way to me again, and I will end you.”

“Bring it on, bitch.”

Steele’s fingers were cold; her touches burned. Athena bit back whimpers of pain and pleasure in hopes of prolonging the inevitable. Her jaw tensed. Steele clucked in dismay.

“You are far too easy. I have to break you further.”

Athena wanted to scream. Wanted to bash her head against the concrete until she could no longer feel her overloaded nerves. Steele did have a thing for breaking her playthings.


	5. Just the Three of Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anon request from Tumblr. The prompt was: Athena and Janey try to proposition Maya for a ménage à trois.   
> I did not take this one seriously at all.   
> Sorry to any Australians reading.   
> Part of my Femslash February prompt dump.

Despite the fact that things between her and the Crimson Raiders were good, Athena loathed going to Sanctuary. Janey was much more optimistic and was much happier to drag her fiancee to the floating city whenever they needed new supplies or whenever there were potential jobs for Athena. Athena usually contented herself by hanging out in Moxxi’s or in the shooting range down in Marcus’ basement. 

Athena leaned heavily on the scarred kitchen table, slowly sipping at her coffee. One of her hands was buried deep in her hair, she was still half-awake. She thought she heard Janey puttering about in the garage. The new parts she had picked up from Scooter’s should have been more than enough to keep them in business for several months. Athena took a long pull at her coffee, waiting for the inevitable crash or bang or soft curse. Nothing. The door to the garage opened. The hinge no longer creaked; that was a plus. 

Athena blinked slowly as Janey plopped into the seat across from her. Her fiancee was grinning far too brightly for that early in the morning. 

“’Thena, we should chuck a sickie and go up to Sanctuary.”

“Uh, what?”

“Take a day off, plan a little somethin’.”

Athena took another prolonged sip of her coffee as though to make a point. 

“What exactly are you planning?”

“I was thinkin we give the whole threesome idea a burl again.”

Athena spat out her coffee. She thumped her chest a few times, cringing. She pushed her mug away, feeling far more awake than she had been. 

“You could have waited a minute longer, Janey.”

Janey hitched her shoulders, a lazy smile crossing her face. Her smug smile made her scars shift tantalizingly. 

“Okay, so I’m assuming you have someone in mind. And please don’t say Lilith. Or Moxxi for that matter. Last time she tried to kill me.” 

“I don’t think she meant it, ‘Thena. How about that other siren sheila, Maya, is it?”

Athena started to open her mouth to make a snarky remark, thought better of it, grunting in agreement.   
–  
Athena decided that it would be far easier if she let Janey talk. Janey was the personable one, the one with people skills that didn’t usually end with holding someone over the edge of Sanctuary or pointing a sword at them. Maybe she had noticed Sanctuary’s second resident siren a few times. At most they had exchanged curt nods. Their longest conversation had lasted all of five minutes and it was merely to agree that no, they weren’t going to try to kill the other and that Maya was far more agreeable than Lilith. 

Athena cringed internally when Janey led the siren to their booth at Moxxi’s. Rakk ale started flowing, though usually Moxxi sent someone else to deliver their drinks. Maybe it wouldn’t go so bad. Athena started to relax after a few drinks. Yeah, Janey could handle things. It wouldn’t be awkward, it wouldn’t be weird. Maybe they’d go back to Hollow Point, have– oh god, Maya just froze like a skag in the headlights.

“Oh my god, Janey, you can’t just go out and ask someone if they want to join a threesome.” 

The flirting had been working up until that point. Athena wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the sudden embarrassment that caused Maya’s cheeks to flush. But to her credit, Maya didn’t run off right away. Athena was taken aback when Maya leaned across the booth, touching her forearm, tracing the owl tattoo on her forearm. Athena had a feeling she had missed some subtle clue while internally panicking. She felt her fiancee’s palm on her thigh, only to have her own hand pulled under the table. 

She learned one thing very quickly: Maya was much more muscular than Janey. But she wasn’t half as toned as Athena was. Athena nestled a wad of bills in the corner of the booth, attempting to quietly herd the two women out of the bar lest Moxxi get a show. They barely made it to Maya’s quarters in the Raider’s HQ.


	6. Flattery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ForYeWhoArtLiterate requested this drabble as part of my Femslash February prompt challenge.   
> The premise was Gaige geeking out over Athena, getting a little flirty all the while Athena is both a little weirded out and kind of into it.

“Holyshit, holyshit, holyshit. I can’t believe it’s you.”

“Uh, what?” Athena looked up from her rakkale, her eyebrow rising.

Gaige plopped down into the seat directly across from her, not caring that it was obviously not supposed to be occupied. She blew off Moxxi’s look of warning.

“Dude, you’re the person that’s been driving Lil nuts. You freaking evaded the freakin’ Firehawk, AND made Brick and Mordy look like morons all while using outdated Atlas tech. That is freaking sick.”

Athena’s gaze dropped back down to her rakkale. She drained the bottle, signaling for another. 

“I don’t like to be found.”

“Okay, okay, I get that, but shit, you told me about what happened on Elpis, tell me what happened here. How you kicked Brick and Mordy’s asses. ‘Cause that’s freakin’ hot.” 

The pinched look was back to Athena’s face. Gaige was leaning halfway across the table. Part of Athena wanted to pull the t-shirt up on Gaige’s shoulder so it would sit properly, a small part of her (that was quite insistent) was starting to get the idea that ripping said shirt off would be even more convenient. Janey had never been too keen on her battle prowess and it had been a long, long time since someone had really enjoyed her stories of bloodshed. Either that or she was drunker than she expected. 

“No, seriously. You had a total noob with you and still nearly kicked their asses using what, a shield and a sword? I bet under all that armor you’re seriously jacked.” 

Gaige’s fingers strayed across the table top, eventually finding Athena’s forearm in the dim lighting of Moxxi’s bar. She let her hand close around the solid flesh. She couldn’t even wrap her palm around the top of Athena’s forearm. The muscle was firm as a lead pipe. Gaige was surprised when the gladiator didn’t pull away. 

“Just a little. You can’t survive on this planet skinny as you are for long. Years of training made me a weapon.”

There was a pause as Gaige attempted to figure out her next move. Why the hell not? She flashed a huge grin at Athena; subtlety was not a skill in her dossier. 

“I bet you’re good with your hands.” 

Moxxi set a fresh rakkale in front of Athena. She cast a sidelong glance at Gaige and then shot another incredulous look at Athena. She rolled her eyes as she walked off, hardly believing what she had just heard. 

“I know a few tricks, if that’s what you mean.” 

Gaige was practically draped over the table. Normally Athena would comment on it, but her mind was elsewhere. It had been… A while. Torture had taken quite a bit out of her. It wasn’t as if Janey hadn’t said she couldn’t explore outside options… 

“Wanna show me some?”

Athena left the rakkale untouched. She did, however leave Moxxi one hell of a tip with a neatly written threat attached to it.


	7. Caught in the Act

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another request from ForYeWhoArtLiterate.  
> This time Angel catching Maya reading erotica.   
> Part of my ongoing Femslash February series.

Maya shifted on her bed, knees brushing together. No, that position certainly didn’t help. She readjusted, holding her Echodevice on her stomach. Slightly better, but not much. She chewed her lower lip as the scene’s intensity ramped up. Once more she let a guilty pleasure consume her.

Maya was very, very thankful that Lilith opened up the HQ so that they no longer shared a wide barracks. Granted, she should have shut the door, but still. Using Phaselock to launch a heavy piece of tech she salvaged would do the trick. But then again, none of the Raiders were supposed to be there. Content that she was alone, Maya dove back into her reading.

Absently, she let her palm slide down her firm stomach. Her hand slipped under her waistband easily enough. Her fingers trailed along her underwear, edging toward the damp spot dead center. Her focus moved from her reading material, her mind’s eye filled with the imagery offered by her book. She didn’t hear the small hitch in her breathing or the knock on her door.

The steel door cracked open a little further– Maya must’ve muttered “yes” at some point. Angel popped her head in the door.

“Hey, Maya, there’s an anomaly on the Echone–” Angel cut herself off.

It wasn’t everyday you saw one of the most powerful women on the planet with her pants around her ankles.

Maya came crashing back into reality at the sound of Angel’s voice. She desperately scrabbled to cover herself with a blanket, her face flushing.

“I, uh, shit.”

Angel didn’t bother thinking. “Need a hand?”

She honestly expected Maya to kick her out or tell her to fuck herself. She sure as hell wasn’t expecting Maya to beckon to her. She definitely didn’t expect the first lustful kiss. EchoNet problems could wait.  
Angel chuckled when she heard the door slam shut with the aid of Maya’s Phaselock. Her laughter was cut off with another heated kiss. Her hand was guided exactly where Maya wanted it and Angel was all too happy to oblige.


	8. Moving On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon request from Tumblr.   
> Yet more Femslashy goodness.

Karima took one last look at the framed photo, sighing softly as she placed it in a cardboard box. It was time to move on, after all. Danny had lost the lottery and had been fed to the grinder years ago, now she was just holding on. Holding onto what, she wasn’t sure. But packing up his old things made her feel better. Almost as good as the first time Overlook had received medication from the vault hunters. 

Sealing up the box, Karima exhaled. Overlook was doing better than it had been since Hyperion tried to seize the planet. They had their shields, their medication, their freedom. (Not that many of the townspeople actually left their houses, but it was a step in the right direction.) Naturally after the long peace, she felt something was missing. 

She would have continued to ponder what exactly was missing from her life when she heard knocking. The staccato rhythm started and stopped as though the person was struggling to figure out how to knock. Karima took up a shot gun she had purchased from Marcus in the off-chance a psycho had found his way to Overlook. 

Keeping low, she crept over to the holomonitor connected to her door. The screen showed a woman. A certain blue-haired woman that had caught Karima’s eye the last time the vault hunters had visited Overlook. What a vault hunter was doing in the middle of this mostly empty town long after the defeat of Jack was beyond her. Karima set down her gun.

“I, erm, what brings you here?”

“I wanted to see you.”

Odd, but Karima didn’t really see much of a problem. The siren was rather attractive. Her fingers hesitated on the controls of her doors. No one had entered her home since– she bit her lip and let the door open. Maya staggered into the door; Karima could smell Rakk ale on her. She must have imbibed over at the Holy Spirits. They stood awkwardly for a moment, Maya swaying just slightly. 

“You seem inebriated, do you need water?”

She felt a warm, calloused hand brushing her cheek.

“No water, please. I think I’ll lose my nerve. I’ve been thinking about you since we met. Constantly.”

Karima took a half-step back in surprise. Her cheeks flushed, a feeling she hadn’t felt in a while. Maya had followed her, but on unsteady feet. Maya wobbled, took a breath and closed the gap between them. Karima hoped she would melt at that moment. Maya’s lips were hot and wet. They felt far better than Karima could have ever hoped. Maybe late night visits weren’t all that bad.


	9. Plunder

“I’m going to need you to put this on.”

Scarlett stuffed a black garment bag into Nisha’s hands without a second glance. She turned back to her closet and continued rummaging, humming tunelessly. Nisha unzipped the bag, took one look at its contents and let it drop to the floor with a soft thump. 

“The fuck I will. I hate dresses.”

“At least for once let me wear the trousers. I can make it worth your while, love.”

“Nope.”

“Yes, I do know how absolutely fabulous you look in leather and gore, but, please, just this once do this little thing for me. It’s in your favourite colour after all.”

“Why do I have to wear a dress?”

“We are going on… A raid of sorts. We’re crashing a party to steal us a treasure map and then promptly carouse the night away.”

“And what exactly is in it for me?” 

Nisha craned her neck, trying to spot Scarlett amidst the racks of clothing stuffed in her closet. She could barely make out the back of Scarlett’s prosthetic leg. She had way too many clothes. 

“What, being on my arm doesn’t count?” 

Scarlett clicked her tongue when she heard a disgusted grunt from Nisha.

“Obviously you’d get a share of the loot. Perhaps you would like something else?”

“Keep your god damn pants on, Red.”

“Oh, I do hate it when you call me that.”

“’S why I do it.”

Scarlett emerged from her closet, her arms full of clothing. She lifted an eyebrow before quirking a finger.

“So, are you in or no?”

“Fine, but I fucking hate you.”

“You keep saying that, and yet, here you are. Your definition of hate is kind of off.”  
–  
Nisha grumbled the entire way down the fancy hallway. The floors were marble, there were marble busts of dead people she didn’t give a fuck about everywhere. Gild, ornate chandeliers, the works. Even Hyperion events weren’t that damn snooty. Nisha rubbed at her bare shoulder, feeling terribly uncomfortable without her heavy leather jacket. Despite herself, she kept feeling her gaze drawn to Scarlett.   
In all honesty, it pissed her off that Scarlett pulled off a suit so well. It pissed her off even more that Scarlett had been very careful with color coordination. Navy and cream for herself while Nisha had been put in a slightly lighter shade of purple. Nisha had no idea what the color was called. Probably something pretentious as fuck. 

They had passed by a mirror at one point. Nisha glared at herself. Apparently a woman had complimented her on her iris purple dress with its empire waistline and how it suited her. What the fuck did that all mean, anyway? What really got her was whenever someone commented that her date was quite a looker and that they were a good match. Oh, that just made her want to strangle Scarlett more than ever.   
An hour of dull socializing later, Nisha was sure that they were there only to torture her. She felt a warm arm snake around her waist. She was about to stomp on the lech’s foot until she heard Scarlett’s voice in her ear.

“The host is about to come out to really stir things up. His study will be empty for at least ten minutes. I say we go in, steal the map and some of his vintage rums and hoist the mizzen.”

“It’s about time the pirate’s life paid off.”

Scarlett’s hand didn’t leave her waist as the music came to a halt. There was some chatter until an older man in a rather fine suit stepped out onto a mezzanine and started addressing the crowd. They waited a beat before heading up the stairs as he walked down the other side. 

As soon as the study’s door shut behind them, Nisha let out a low whistle. Rich, mahogany furniture greeted them. Old, comfortable leather chairs and a well decked out library full of curios awaited them. 

“Keep watch, I’ll have us a map in no time.”

Nisha crept to the door, keeping her ear pressed against the wall. At least Scarlett let her keep Law even though it was in a ridiculous holster that was snug against her thigh. She hitched her dress up high enough for her to draw her gun just in the off chance that they had company. 

Behind her, Scarlett rummaged through the desk. She expected to hear a few curses or more tuneless humming, but apparently Scarlett was in the zone, focused in a way that Nisha thought was impossible. Hardly a minute of standing around she heard a click. Nisha had hand ready to pistol whip the intruder, but instead she heard a soft creak and a low chuckle from the end of the room.

“Well, hello, gorgeous. You are coming with me.”

“You better be talking to that fucking map, Red.”

Something came flying at her. Nisha caught it underhand, cringing. She glanced down at the Echodevice with a frown. She would have commented if it weren’t for the door suddenly opening. Scarlett vanished, the safe she cracked shut and everything in order once more. Nisha flattened herself against the wall, momentarily forgetting about her gun.   
A burly man in a surprisingly well-tailored suit stepped in, hand on his gun, looking ready to kill the first thing in sight. Instead his first sight was a redheaded woman in a suit making out with her date. The woman in the dress seemed a little taken aback.

“Hey, get out of here. Mister DaFoe doesn’t want anyone in here.”

Scarlett pulled away from Nisha with a wink.

“Oh, terribly sorry. I should really learn to control myself. Thank you.”

Scarlett palmed the Echo, slipping it into her suit’s hidden inner pocket. With her free hand, a custom cybernetic number, she took Nisha’s hand and led her out of the study. They stopped momentarily to exchange pleasantries with the DaFoe fellow, Nisha thought he looked like he had a stick up his ass, but remained silent. At least until the point when they exited the overwrought mansion.

“The fuck, Scarlett.”

“Obviously we needed cover and I couldn’t have you going and killing someone.”

“Really?”

Scarlett shrugged with catlike ease, a lazy grin spreading over her face. “I’d like to continue if you wouldn’t mind.”

Nisha started to form a list of lines to describe the numerous ways Scarlett could go fuck herself. At least until she realized it would far more entertaining to give into Scarlett once and then deny her every last advance. 

“You know what, why the hell not?”

Once more the cold lip ring was pressed against her lips. She felt a cold metal hand creep up the slit in the side of her dress. She slapped it away. 

“Hey, how’s about we actually get away with the shit we stole first?”

“Point taken. Because as much as I love that dress on you, I want to see it off of you more.”


	10. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ForYeWhoArtLiterate requested a follow-up for Just the Three of Us, but involving a certain, nosy mechromancer.

Maya blinked sleep out of her eyes. She tried stifling a yawn to no avail. She swirled the brown fluid in her mug; Lilith had claimed it was coffee. She pursed her lips. She hazarded a sip. Maya cringed, but forced herself to drink more. God, she couldn’t wait to get her own place away from the Raiders.

Gaige plopped down into an empty chair across the table from her. A wide grin was working across her face; and that was despite the fact that she was a night owl.

“So, uh, I heard you had a busy night.” 

Maya looked up from her so-called coffee. The halogen lights of the kitchen highlighted the dark shadows under her eyes.

“What gives you that idea?”

“You have hickeys. And I mean plural.”

Maya didn’t grace her with an answer. She forced down more of the brown sludge.

“I know it wasn’t Lil. She fell asleep at the war table after BnB night. Ax is at Ellie’s and it sure as hell wasn’t me, Sal, or Zer0.”

Maya glared over the rim of her mug. She took a great deal of care to avoid looking at the grounds at the bottom of it when she set it down. 

“Why the sudden interest?”

“My room’s next to yours, Mai. If I hadn’t been up playing EchoSims you would’ve woken me up.”

Maya pulled at the collar of her t-shirt. She hadn’t even bothered putting on real clothes before she ventured downstairs. She shifted on her cold, hard chair, listening to the squeak of skin on metal. 

“Noted. I’m still waiting on my move-out date.”

“You’re avoiding the topic. Are you embarrassed?”

Gaige leaned over the table, her grin resembling the Cheshire cat’s. And that was even before opening her usual morning soda.  
“I’m not embarrassed. I just don’t see why it’s something that needs discussing.”

Maya got up. Her feet drug across the linoleum in an awkward shuffle. She picked up the coffee pot, grimacing as she poured herself a second mug. The brew tasted awful, but damn, she was tired. 

“I heard two other voices than yours.”

Ceramic hit the floor with a distinct tinkle. Maya’s shoulders drooped as she surveyed the mess she had made. Lukewarm sludge trickled between her toes. She sighed loudly, finally turning to Gaige.

“I slept with Athena and her wife.”

Gut spilled, Maya started gathering paper towels. She stepped carefully around fragments of mug, placing each step so that she wouldn’t slip. 

“High five, girl! That’s so badass. Were they good? Is Athena as buff as she looks? How do Janey’s scars--”

“You have an unhealthy obsession with my sex life.”

“Your sex life is fascinating as hell. I barely get any if I want some. So, you gonna do it again?”

Maya sighed as she tossed away the last of her coffee-stained paper towels. Aside from a burned coffee ground smell, there was no evidence. 

“To answer your questions: Yes, it was good. Really good. Yes, Athena is very buff. Janey’s scars are interesting, though part of me wanted to try healing them.”

Maya paused, her jaw clenching and unclenching as she thought.

“Yeah, I’d do it again.”

Gaige leapt out of her seat, holding up her nonmetal hand. The manic gleam in her eyes gave Maya second thoughts as she slapped her friend’s hand. 

“It must be amazing being that hot.”

Maya shrugged noncommittally. She honestly didn’t get where people got that she was hot. But a compliment was a compliment to her sleep-deprived brain. 

“If you need me, I’m going back to bed to actually sleep.”  
“Sure you don’t wanna--”

Gaige was cut off when she felt herself lifted off of her feet by a phaselock orb. A small scream of surprise escaped her when her feet left the ground.

“Hey! Hey! Whoa, that is not cool. Maya! Uggghhhh.” 

Maya grinned to herself as she made her way back toward her room. She would never hear the end of it, but that was perfectly fine with her.


	11. The Long Con

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of a Hurricane Irma trade I did with a tumblr friend. She wanted Fiona pining for Athena. I was happy to oblige.

All it was supposed to be was a con job. A means to an end and a fuckton of money. Fiona wasn’t supposed to fall in love; wasn’t supposed to yearn for a woman she stood no chance with. And yet, there she was. The vault had made her rich beyond her wildest dreams. She could have left Pandora, could have anything she wanted. Well, except for Athena.

Athena was terrifying. She was beautiful. She was powerful. Needless to say Fiona fell hard and fast.

She had one hell of a time focusing on her vault hunter training. She could still remember the feel of Athena’s calloused hands on hers as she taught her how to properly brace against recoil. She clung to memories of the cool press of Athena’s breastplate on her back during shooting lessons. The way Athena’s forearms flexed when she lifted Aspis. Athena made it look so easy.

She was gruff and awkward. The tiny smiles of pride when Fiona succeeded made Fiona’s heart flutter. The way her voice got huskier when she fought made chills run down Fiona’s spine. Fiona ached to reach out whenever the gladiator withdrew from their little misfit group. She wanted to reassure Athena that her past didn’t define her.

But Athena had a girlfriend. She had fought and scrounged until she could bring Janey to Pandora. But the two fought. Athena wanted action, blood. Janey wanted her safe. Fiona would have happily let Athena lead the life of a bounty hunter– of a vault hunter. The thrill alone had made the job worthwhile. They would have been an unstoppable power couple, taking vaults, kicking ass. But… Athena accepted Janey’s proposal.

–

The Purple Skag buzzed with conversation. Outside Tector could be heard heckling drunkards. Fiona mulled over her rakk ale staring into its amber depths. August gave her her space, only approaching her booth to bring her a fresh drink. By her third drink, she was feeling it. The buzz only made her more ornery.

She rested her feet on the seat of the booth. She stretched out as far as she could managed to ward away any one who dared to get close. At least until a fourth bottle of rakk ale was set before her. Fiona looked up, her dark sulk momentarily forgotten. Her heart thudded in her ribs when she spied worn red armor.

“I heard you were still in town. Mind if I join you?”

Fiona’s boots hit the scuffed wood floor with a resounding thump. She didn’t notice how much the jarring motion hurt. Athena slipped into the spot across from her. She offered a weak smile.

“How have things been going, Athena? It’s been a while.”

Fiona fought back the urge to blurt out her feelings. The words nearly escaped her. She forced herself to take a long pull of her ale. She didn’t taste it.

“Nothing’s really changed. I hate wedding planning.”

A dull pang shot through Fiona’s heart. She swirled her booze around, avoiding eye contact.

“Well, I heard weddings are crazy…”

“You, uh, seem upset. Something wrong?”

Once more Fiona had to fight back her urge to beg Athena to kiss her. She struggled against the little voice in her head telling her to confess her love.

“Just frustrated. There hasn’t been a good job since the Vault.”

The lie was smooth, easy as if she had practiced it a dozen times. The words burned as they slipped from her lips. Athena brushed her forearm. It was a clumsy gesture. The motion of someone unaccustomed to comforting.

“It’s Pandora, there’s bound to be something.”

Fiona tried to smile, but the expression fell flat. She sighed loudly.

“Okay, maybe there is one thing. I don’t know how good you are with relationship advice, but there’s a gir– woman, I’m really into. She’s damn near perfect. But she has a girlfriend and it’s killing me a little.”

Athena settled back in her seat. She took a long pull from her own bottle. The booth creaked as she moved. August called it “rustic” and “Authentic Pandoran”. Fiona called it crap.

“Uhh, not my strong suit. Try Moxxi. Last time I tried helping someone, well, it didn’t go over well. I’m pretty sure Nisha would still hate me.”

Fiona made a soft noise in the back of her throat. She continued swirling her beer.

“I guess you could try telling her? I don’t know.”

“Yeah, but she’s happy, I think. She has her life figured out. Wow, I’m stupid.”

Athena’s brow furrowed. She was quiet for a long moment. Eventually a slow smile crept across her face. Fiona felt her warm, calloused fingers on her forearms.

“I’m sure if things were different, she’d appreciate it. Maybe reciprocate.”

Fiona bit her lower lip, giving a tight nod in response. Athena patted her arm once more as she slipped from the booth. Fiona watched her leave, eyes stinging. She downed the last of her bottle. If only things were different. If only…


	12. Dust storms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another Tumblr request to keep me occupied during Hurricane Irma. Scarlett and Nisha hide out from a dust storm.

Wind whipped around their heads, snatching Scarlett’s hat. She seized Nisha by the wrist, trying to speak over the howling wind. Nisha staggered blindly through the grit. Sand bit into her skin like tiny pinpricks. They stumbled as the sand blotted out the sun.

“We need to find shelter!” Scarlett sputtered through a mouthful of dust and dirt.

The wind battered at them until at last Scarlett spied a patch of darkness amidst the rusty hues. She drug Nisha along, taking cautious strides. She ducked down, pulling her companion with her. It was a tight fit but the makeshift shelter was good enough to get them out of the worst of the storm.

Once she cleared the dust from her eyes, Scarlett risked a look around their shelter. She had been expecting a skag den, but a few feet above her head were wood beams. An old mine cart lay half-buried in rubble. The cart was backed up almost flush with the entrance of the mine shaft; it was hardly tall enough for them to stand. Nisha rubbed at her eyes, muttering soft curses. Her curses redoubled when her head smacked into one of the wooden beams.

Scarlett slowly lowered herself to the floor. She didn’t bother peeping out of their hiding spot. Her legs barely had enough room to be fully extended. Her boot brushed Nisha’s calf.

“Well, if this isn’t a clusterfuck, I don’t know what is.”

Scarlett folded her arms indignantly.

“If you hadn’t insisted on torturing that bandit, we’d be back on the Bacchanal sitting pretty.”

Nisha grumbled under her breath. She leaned heavily against the mine shaft’s wall. Scarlett extended a hand.

“At the very least, let me tend to that wound.”

Nisha shook her head. Her arm was tucked close to her rib cage, her hand withdrawn partially in her duster’s sleeve to hide the damage. Scarlett seized her by the calf and tugged. Nisha fell flat on her ass, hissing in pain. Scarlett ignored her protests as she crept to her side. She tugged at Nisha’s sleeve until she managed to get it up over her elbow. There was a lump forming in the center of her forearm. Her left wrist hung limply.

“Figures, the one time I don’t have a spare med hypo.”

Nisha refused to look at her. Scarlett rolled her eye. She began sifting through the rubble in search for something that would make a decent splint. The darkness of their shelter and the lack of light from the storm made the search even more difficult. Nisha’s dark mood didn’t help either. Scarlett yanked a small metal bar from the rim of the mine cart. The metal pulled away cleanly enough. She scored the metal with her hook, setting the piece beneath her prosthetic leg. A little pressure and it broke cleanly in two.

“Give me your knife.”

Nisha scowled, but handed over her knife. Under her breath, Scarlett muttered about Nisha being a ‘bloody useless child’. She set the tip of the blade over her leg,cutting a swath of fabric just above her prosthesis. Tearing the cloth into strips turned out to be a difficult job; her hook kept shredding the fabric. She bit back a curse of frustration.

“I’m going to need you to hold the bars in place.”

“You’re too needy.”

“Do you want your arm fixed?”

Nisha cupped her wrist without so much as a snide comment. She went as far as using her thumb to support the first strip of fabric as it was wound around her arm.

“Let someone help you for once, Nish.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Sometimes, I’m not so sure of that.”

Nisha’s nose curled. Scarlett felt her forearm tense, the wiry muscles constricting.

“Oh, calm yourself, you’re too testy.”

“In case you missed it, there’s a dust storm out there and we’re trapped in here. That asshole probably got away with the goods–”

“Ah, ah. Don’t worry your pretty head. We have the upper hand; I highly doubt he’s literate. What would it take to get you to relax?”

“A bottle of whiskey, and that dick’s head beneath my boot.”

Scarlett leaned just slightly closer. With a single head movement, she would be in perfect range for kissing Nisha.

“And nothing else?”

Nisha’s gaze had dropped. She turned her eyes back up the the ceiling not far above them. Scarlett had to fight back her urge to laugh at the way Nisha held her lip between her teeth.

“Oh really, now, the one time you do find me fetching it’s when I’m covered in dirt and blood.”

“Suits you.”

Scarlett seized Nisha by the lapels of her duster, pulling her far enough forward so that she didn’t have to bend into the kiss. She expected Nisha to break away, grumbling about ‘not being into chicks’. She definitely didn’t plan for Nisha to relax into the kiss. She tangled her fingers into Nisha’s inky black hair, savoring every second.  
The storm was largely forgotten about.


	13. The Inevitable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breaking the trend of shippy stuff for something a little harsher. Also one of my Irma requests.

Nisha drew Law, keeping it trained on Scarlett’s head. Scarlett raised placating hands, her one visible eye growing wide with horror.

“Really, Nish, we can work things out. We’re besties, right?”

Nisha took a step forward. Her eyes narrowed even as Scarlett’s back brushed against the tin wall of a bandit shack. She didn’t look half as intimidating without her hook.

“We’re been through worse, Nish. Remember? I was there when your mum died– when the vault hunters took–”

Nisha reveled in the look of shock on Scarlett’s face when she clocked her with Law. The blade had nicked her cheek. Blood streamed down her face.

“You were too late. You told me not to kill mom. You told me to run instead of killing those god damn bandits. You laughed when Jack died.”

Scarlett’s eye roved their surroundings. Nisha casually lowered the sights of Law, taking aim. The pistol’s blast was deafening up close. Shrapnel from Scarlett’s prosthetic leg embedded deep into her grieves, but Nisha didn’t take notice. Scarlett slid down the hovels wall. Her breath came in shallow pants. Nisha hadn’t expected that. It only made the grim grin on her face grow. A cold, feral gleam glowed in her eyes.

“But I always had your back. We could forget it all I— I’d walk away. I’d take my crew and leave I won’t show my face again.”

“You raided Lynchwood. You laughed. You took my revenge from me.” Her voice kept an even, acidic tone.

Once more Law was trained on Scarlett’s head. Scarlett’s eyes were wide with horror. Nisha could smell fear on her. She laughed as a single tear rolled down her victim’s cheek. She pulled the trigger, laughing bitterly at the blood splashed on her boots.

“Pathetic. Huh, and I thought I might’ve loved you once.”

Nisha turned on her heel. She spared a single glance at the shattered body behind her. Once more it was just her against the world. The slightest pang of guilt died when her Echo alerted her to the approach of Scarlett’s crew. Her hoarse laughter echoed around the cavern. Just like the good old days.


	14. Insult to Injury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last of my Hurricane Irma prompts. I let this one get a little out of control.

“Winger, hold those bastards off, I’m nearly…”

The gunshot echoed through the streets of Lynchwood. Nisha redoubled her pace, bracing her shotgun as she ran through the town. Her booted footfalls were surprisingly quiet on the hard-packed dirt. She ducked into the passage below the bank, keeping her gun trained ahead of her. She slowed to a crawl, keeping low to avoid hitting her head. There was light at the tunnel’s end. The light flickered and there was the smell of smoke. As she drew closer she caught a whiff of burning skin and hair.

Winger was slumped over, his gun nowhere to be found. A neat hole had been blown through his skull.

“The hell--”

Something solid collided with the back of her head. She half-turned, trying to aim when a second blow caught her in the temple. Blackness crept into the corners of her eyes until she sank into oblivion.

Nisha awoke to the warmth of sun and a hot breeze on her skin. Her head throbbed; her tongue felt glued to her cheek. Her throat burned when she tried to swallow. Pins and needles stung at her fingers.Squinting, she could just barely make out rock formations in the distance. The breeze picked up, pelting her with sand and grit.

“Oh good, you’re finally awake. Welcome to the Bacchanal, Nish.”

Nisha opened her mouth to speak. The sounds that left her were hardly more than soft moans. She jerked, trying to rid herself of the agonizing tingling in her hands.

“In case you wondered: Lynchwood has burned to the ground. I have all your money. And all of your weapons. Oh, and your clothing.”

Nisha thrashed harder when she realized her hands had been tied above her head.

“Face it, love, I won. Though that strip search to find all your weapons… Oh now that was fun. However… I think I might have hit you a little too hard.”

Nisha found a small puddle of saliva. She wet her throat, wincing at the sting.

“The hell do you want from me?”

Glaringly bright light flashed onto her face when Scarlett shifted her hook. Nisha cringed away from the flash of silver.

“Ideally, I’d like you grovelling at my boot and then promptly licking it.”

“Like hell.” Nisha growled, or at least, attempted to growl.

The longer she stayed conscious, the more Nisha became aware of the fact that her left eye was swollen nearly shut. Her lip had been split at one point, but the blood had dried and crusted on her lower lip. She bared her teeth in a grim snarl. 

“That is a bit of a pity. If you were willing to submit to me, I’d let it all go. I’d forgive you for all the times you’ve locked me up. I’d give you far more than a lousy town; you’d have the whole desert to patrol.”

Nisha was tempted to spit at Scarlett. The display would be less than threatening, but it would at least make a point.

“Hell no.”

She heard the odd ca-clump of Scarlett’s uneven footfalls as she paced a neat circle just out of Nisha’s range. Nisha tried to curl a finger, but she couldn’t feel her hands. The tingling had become numbness.

“Oh, I should have told you this, but I tied a knot that only tightens when you fight, and you were quite… Feisty, shall I say?”

Nisha rose on her toes to the best of her ability, trying to take the weight off of her wrists.

“Fuck you.”

“You’re all talk, aren’t you, Nish? Make big threats but you’re just scared that someone will see you vulnerable. It’s quite adorable.”

“Let me go, you bitch!” Her voice had taken on a metallic rasp.

“Beg first, then we’ll see how I feel.”

Nisha curled her upper lip. Her biceps strained as she struggled to support herself. She could feel the ligaments starting to tear. Her legs shook, jerking under her weight and her poor balance.

“Never.” Speaking was physically painful. Each word felt like it was searing her parched throat.

“Oh, I should mention, that if you keep that up, you will likely lose your hands. They’re starting to go a little blue.”

Nisha’s calves started to ache. As she slowly lowered herself, she heard herself wheezing.

“And another little fun fact: if your arms stay above your head much longer, you’ll probably die.”

Blackness was edging in on the corners of her vision. The world swam in a haze. Nisha took a shaky breath, it hitched half way, making her choke.

“I hate you.”

“A real pity. I actually enjoyed our little cat and mouse games. And those times we actually got on? Brilliant.”

Nisha’s shoulders creaked. She tried shifting the joints, only to feel her breath spill from her. Every exhalation came as a huff. Try as she might, she couldn’t fill her lungs to capacity. She barely could get a small breath in. The darkness was creeping in closer. Her vision swam.

“Please.” She spat the word, her lungs aflame.

“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“Please.”

Scarlett stepped closer. Nisha jerked her head away from the hot metal of Scarlett’s hook.

“You can do better.”

Every exhalation left her closer and closer to the blackness threatening to consume her. Each breath made her shudder.

“Please, let me go, Scarlett. I… I beg of you.”

The words left an awful taste in her mouth. Worse than the taste of her bone dry tongue. Scarlett’s hook pressed under her jaw, forcing her head up.

“I’m going to need you to do better than that. I’m sure you know how to get yourself out of this situation.”

“Fu.. Fuck you.”

“Oh, that’s a real pity, Nish. You were so close to freedom. It really was quite a delight knowing you.”

Nisha’s jaws clicked together when Scarlett let her head drop. A ragged breath escaped her. A new stinging pain burned through her chest. It was all too clear that the end was nearing. And that death was going to hurt like a bitch.

“Anything. I’ll do it. Jus’ let me go.” The words blurred together in a single burst of sound. Syllables mashed together, but Scarlett seemed to understand her.

“Anything, you say?”

“Anythin’.”

There was a devilish gleam to Scarlett’s eyes that Nisha found she was glad she wasn’t seeing clearly. The pressure on her shoulders was lifted. Nisha’s legs went out from under her. She toppled gracelessly to the Bacchanal’s deck, drinking in deep, filling breaths. Her moment of clarity and relief passed when the heavy weight of Scarlett’s prosthetic leg settled on her throat.

“You said anything. And I have an idea.”

Nisha’s eyes grew wide. She gasped for a breath as a new wave of panic settled in on her.

“You like to play it big and bad, so why not take a page from your book? I want you to lick my boot.”

“No.”

Nisha jerked, clutching her stomach after Scarlett kicked her. The pointed edge of Scarlett’s prosthetic forced the breath from her.

“You’re in no position to refuse. Now behave.”

Scarlett took another step forward, placing her boot in Nisha’s face. Nisha sneered when the boot pressed against her lips. She shuddered as she tried to find any traces of moisture in her mouth. Her tongue rasped against the sand-crusted leather. Nisha’s jaw tensed, her brow furrowing in disgust.

“Not so hard, was it?”

Nisha refused to answer. Scarlett chuckled darkly as her boot settled on Nisha’s cheek.

\--

A few months after Nisha escaped from Scarlett’s clutches, she settled into a routine that brought the semblance of normality back to her life. Lynchwood may have been gone, but she could still hunt bandits. She mercilessly stalked them, working her way toward revenge on Scarlett. At least until one day when she received an Echo chimed.

At first, she ignored it. The notification continued in a constant drone until at last she opened the message. It contained photos of sacking of Lynchwood. And images of Nisha’s humiliation at the hand of Scarlett. She was expected grainy, off-centered shots, images filmed at the apex of the action. But each shot was well centered with surprisingly good composition.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

There was an especially good shot of her at Scarlett’s feet. She threw aside her echo, placing a few rounds into its casing. She emptied the clip, just to be sure.


	15. A Taste of Her Own Medicine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A birthday gift for our own Foryewhoartliterate. He had a few specific requests for the prompt and I was happy to oblige.

Nisha knew she was at a loss. Knew it the instant the muzzle of Greed buried into her spine. Knew it even as she was shoved up the loading dock of the Bacchanal. What did she have to show for it? A busted lip, a bruised ego. She should have known better than to enter Scarlett’s turf. 

The prodding of Greed’s muzzle was replaced by the pinprick edge of what could only be Law. She was jabbed in the back hard enough to make her stumble up the ramp leading to the lift. She kept trying to pick at her bindings, but they refused to give. They must have been Atlas surplus. 

“Whatever you’re going to do to me, just get it the hell over with.”

“In a rush, Sheriff?”

Nisha fought back her urge to make a snide comment. She held it down, but just barely. The lift lurched under them, slowly rising. Her thoughts swam with possible escape routes. Nothing acceptable came to mind. Law dug a small niche next to her spine, the tip of the wicked bayonet poked through the leather of her duster. No sooner had they reached the top floor, she was shoved forward once more. Scarlett didn’t give her a chance to observe her surroundings. Any time she went to look, she felt the blade dig deeper until it started to pierce her skin.

She felt the heavy weight of Scarlett’s hook settle at the back of her skull once they reached a door. The pressure on her spine ceased. A warm arm slipped around her, pressing close to her lithe frame. The door swung open. Nisha was roughly shoved inside before she could risk a glance at the room. She stumbled headlong into surprisingly cool air. The room was dimly lit, but comfortable. Her skin began to crawl.

“I’ll let you live on one condition, Nish.”

“And the hell is that?”

“I need you to remove all of your clothing. To ensure you’re not hiding any more sneaky little weapons.”

“Like hell I am.” 

Law was pressed to her spine again. She heard the hammer cock. The blade traced along the back of her coat until the tip brushed the nape of her neck. A shot from Law that close up was a death sentence. And she wasn’t about to go down like a bitch. 

“Make your choice, love. Eat a bullet or get knocked down a peg.”

The words ‘fuck you’ rose to her lips, but she forced them down. It was like swallowing pure stactus pulp. Her throat stung. 

“Gonna need my hands if you want me to do that.”

“I’ve already liberated your favourite knife, no tricks, or I will shoot you.”

Nisha swallowed dryly. She fanned out her palms beneath the cuffs as if to make a point that she was without a weapon. She waited for the click of the cuffs. Behind her came the sounds of someone taking a few cautious steps back, the gun never left the nape of her neck. Nisha counted the footsteps. She cursed at their height gap. Scarlett had a decent advantage over her. For once the pirate was ahead of the curve. There was a muffled click. The weight was released from her wrists. The energizing core of the cuffs hit the floor with a clink. 

She slowly rotated her wrists, trying to bring the life back into them. The blade of Law dug a little into her neck. She let her hands slowly creep up to the lapels of her jacket.

“Ah-ah, turn around.”

Nisha’s nostrils flared. She bit her lower lip to stifle the curse that rose on her tongue. The insistent pressure from her own gun dissuaded her from commenting. Her hands fell limply to her side. She turned on the ball of her foot, keeping her movements slow. The bayonet drug across her throat, leaving a faint white mark in its wake. She turned until she looked the pirate in her one good eye, scowl firmly settled on her lips. 

“I hate you.” 

Scarlett fixed her with her usual devil-may-care grin. That grin that said ‘no, you don’t.’ 

“If you truly hated me, you wouldn’t have come all this way to track me. Now, resume, I don’t have that much patience.” 

Nisha brought her hands up to the lapels of her trench coat, glaring darkly. She started to pull at the corners, but paused as her fingers seized the metal brackets. She dropped the edges of her jacket. Instead she pulled off her hat, letting it fall to the floor. Scarlett wore an unamused look. 

Nisha smirked to herself as she changed tactics. She loosened the buckles on her armored wrist guard, letting it fall to the floor with a solid clunk. No aim assist, no armor reinforced punches, not that she was concerned about punching the life out of Scarlett, not when her hands around the pirate’s throat would do just as well. As she pulled off her gauntlet a wicked idea surfaced. She wasn’t keen on the concept, but it had potential. 

She used her teeth to remove her leather glove. She caught the slightest hint of weakness when Scarlett bit her lower lip. Nisha let the glove fall to the floor. Her fingers slowly walked up the front of her duster, steadily making their way to the clasp that held her chest strap in place. She slowly slid her thumb beneath the layers of fabric, letting loose the one solid snap. The strap dangled loosely over her vest. She let the moment settle in. The jacket hit the floor in a hiss of heavy fabric. Her toned arms were bared, her sleek frame made all the more obvious thanks to her tight leather pants and well-fitted vest. 

Nisha let Scarlett admire her, she could feel the tip of Law’s blade resting just against the surface of her skin. She unhooked her belt slowly, dragging out the motion. There went the rest of her ammo and her holster. The digistruct hardly held anything more than her old whip and a throwing knife. Neither of which were very useful. 

Nisha took a half step back, Scarlett following closely until she brushed her hand against Law’s barrel.

“I gotta kneel if you want the greaves off.” 

Scarlett backed off, but just barely. Nisha couldn’t help but notice how dilated her one pupil was -- and it wasn’t from the dim lighting of the room. She bent slowly, her fingers working the buckles and straps of her armor at a painstakingly slow pace. The left greave had held her knife. It now rested lost in one of the bandit camps lining Wurmwater. The other held spare ammo and a Hyperion beacon. Not that it would do any good. The armor fell away. Her leather pants clung to her legs, only highlighting how shapely her legs were. Scarlett was biting her lip again.

Nisha hesitated when she got to the buttons of her vest. She had come unprepared for this job. She certainly didn’t want to think of the circumstances. She swallowed as her nimble fingers worked each button open. She let the vest fall away. Her crop top clung to her. It was cool and damp to her skin. She let her hands fall to the waistband of her pants. 

She hardly felt herself shimmy out of her pants. But soon she stood there in just her underwear, cool air tickling her overwarm skin. She hated to admit that she was slightly aroused by the threat of her own gun in the hands of Scarlett. Slightly turned on enough to enjoy the way Scarlett’s eye tracked her. She realized she could have stopped. Should have stopped. But she didn’t. 

\--

Nisha awoke to the sunlight blazing harshly on her. She groped the ground around her until her hand found her hat. She settled it on her head, momentarily content. At least until she looked down. All she wore was her hat and her belt. Her holster was empty. Her digistruct device was no longer hooked up to the holster. Squinting in the harsh light, she found a roadsign. It was written in the broken English of the bandits, but she knew well enough that it said Lynchwood was a good twenty miles to the north. And that she had enough hickeys and bruises to make the solemn march back home that much worse.


	16. Mistakes Were Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something random I started at work.

In all fairness, she had been through worse. Hell, she had done worse. However, as far as mistakes went, this one took the cake. At least compared to the time she drunkenly sent Scarlett nudes. Nothing could top that. Perhaps she had let her anger get the best of her. Maybe she had a drinking problem, too. It didn’t explain how she wound up in bed with Athena, though.

She tried retracing her steps. It only led to more questions. She gave up when her temples started throbbing. 

Hadn’t she promised herself she wouldn’t do it with a chick? Not even if the chick was hot and she was desperate. And definitely never with Scarlett. 

She all but sulked when she found that she had nowhere to go. The only option was the Vorago Solitude; and she sure as hell didn’t want to deal with Eridians or those Lost Legion asswipes. She settled back on the cot, nose creasing in frustration.

Her ass had gone numb from her awkward position on the cot. She rolled over to her side. Athena was sound asleep-- something that surprised Nisha more than she wanted to let on. She glowered at the woman, lips pursing. 

“Move your ass, Athena. You’re hogging the bed.”

Athena was awake and sitting up in the blink of an eye. Her biceps tensed, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. Nisha nearly flinched at her speed. Nearly.

“Well, shit, if I knew that’s how to get you movin’, I’d have done it sooner.”

“The hell, Nisha?”

Nisha propped her head up with her hand, one eyebrow rising. 

“You’re asking me?”

Athena relaxed. She tried to stifle a yawn, but the effort failed. 

“So we made a dumb decision, it happens.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Then why are you still here?”

“I don’t wanna go back to Helios yet.” Not exactly a lie, but close enough. 

Athena grunted in acknowledgment. She started to swing her legs off the cot, over Nisha. Quick as a whip, Nisha had her ankle in her grasp.

“I thought you said you weren’t into women.”

“Shut up.”

Athena lazily scratched the bridge of her nose. She glanced down at the grip on her ankle, knowing all too well how easy it would be to break.

“You wanted me to talk. Make up your mind.”

“Still haven’t figured what I want. How’d we end up in this mess, anyway?”

Nisha slowly sat up, letting go of Athena’s ankle. The nerves along the back of her thigh tingled. She could feel the dull throb of bruises on her jaw and shoulder. 

“We got drunk and you picked a fight.”

It came back to Nisha like ramming a moon zoomy into a wall. Clips of their voices raised in anger, the first clumsily thrown punch that connected with her jaw ran through her mind. And then the sloppy kisses and desperate fumbling to tug off Athena’s armor. 

“Your armor’s a pain in the ass to take off.” 

She left it at that.


	17. Con the Con

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by ForYeWhoArtLiterate

Scarlett walked a neat circle around her. Fiona squirmed. She felt like a treasure being appraised under that scrutinizing gaze. Idly, she wondered if she was on the keep or sell pile. Scarlett’s single eye roved over her. Fiona adjusted her grip on her hat, not losing sight of the irony of where she held it.

“So do we have a deal or what? I can just pack up and leave.”

Once more Scarlett stood just a tad too close. Her perfume smelled of spices and maybe a hint of ocean. The con artist swallowed, her throat dry as the desert surrounding them. Somewhere deep in her there was a flutter. The thrill of the con, of having a sucker hook-- oh, well, maybe not that phrase.

“All you need is transport to the other side of the desert? Surely you need something else.”

“Nope. My caravan’s busted and my sister’s waiting for me on the other side. So whaddya say?”

She offered her hand, flashing what she hoped was her most winning smile. Scarlett tapped her hook against her lips, making her point all too clear.

“I don’t see why not. Shame you don’t want to join the crew; I could always use another hand. Er, pun not intended.”

As fast as the Bacchanal was, a desert crossing was not a quick trip. Fiona was thankful for her takings from the Vault. Granted, in the long run, she’d profit from screwing Scarlett over later. After all, Scarlett had warned her that there was a chance she’d stab her in the back. Fiona figured she’d even out the odds. 

She leaned on a railing on the foredeck, scanning the horizon. In the twilight, the sand was the color of blood, but rapidly turning purple as the sun dropped. The desert air was cool enough for her to tug her jacket closer. For a moment, she thought she saw her breath form clouds. The sky far above her was dotted with stars, free of the giant H of Helios. 

“Enjoying the view, are we?”

Fiona flinched, her derringer drawn fast as a blink. Scarlett lifted her hand, cocky smile on her face.

“Neat little toy, but I’d rather not get shot, thank you.”

“Shit, you scared me.”

Scarlett’s lip ring gleamed in the semi-darkness, only highlighting her shit-eating grin.

“My apologies.”

She gave a little flourish, which Fiona took for a bow of some sort. She tried her hardest not to roll her eyes. She let the derringer slide back into her sleeve, sitting flush with her elbow.

“You want something?”

“Only if you have something to offer.”

Fiona turned around fully, letting her back rest against the railing. Athena would yell at her for it being bad form, but what the hell, she fought through worse. She let her scarred eyebrow rise, slipping back into con mode.

“Really?”

“I may be a pirate, but I do have some standards.”

Fiona tilted her head, sizing up the other woman. Scarlett was much taller than her, but lithe. 

“So, what’s with the pics of the broody chick in your cabin?”

The smug look vanished from Scarlett’s face, but she didn’t jump right to surprise. She had a good poker face, but Fiona’s was better. Scarlett shifted on her prosthetic, her good eye narrowing.

“We… Were close. Besties. Well, more than besties, really. But, still…”

“You break up? Got a jealous ex you’re trying to get back at?”

Scarlett broke eye contact, shifting on her feet. Her metal leg groaned with her movement.

“She… She’s gone. Vault hunters killed her.”

Fiona flinched, mentally kicking herself for showing it. Everyone died on Pandora; some sooner than others, but it still hit close to home.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

She half-expected Scarlett’s face to light up and hear her go ‘got you, didn’t I?,” but there was nothing. Fiona reached out to her, palm brushing the cool leather securing her hook in place. They stood in silence for a beat. Fiona decided to do something reckless. She tugged Scarlett closer, rising on her toes to capture her lips. It was stupid, yes, but, she wasn’t known for making the smartest decisions.


	18. I Give Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A songfic challenge from TrashCandy. Turns out the song was actually meant for an entirely different romance. So... hm.

Maya knew it was stupid to want someone. More than anything. Hadn’t the Brotherhood of the Impending Storm told her that to yearn for something was the root of all evil? Granted, they were corrupt bastards, but still. They had a point. But it all stood before her. Stripped her down to her barest soul. At some point, she’d have to accept it.   
She wasn’t sure when the longing began. Was it during a conversation they had when she couldn’t sleep late one night? Was it the fact that they had such a wide range of similar interests? That they both felt trapped at some point in their lives? Or was it just loneliness?

Maya lost a lot of sleep as she mulled it over. She would think and overthink. And puzzle. She needed answers. Night after night she would search the Echonet, seeking answers to what she was feeling. She felt a little ashamed that she needed technology to break things down into simpler terms for her. All the words led her to one thing: she was smitten. With an AI. 

Something nagged at the back of Maya’s mind. It gnawed at her as she climbed the mountain side that would lead them to the bunker. Why did an AI hold the key to Jack’s power? Why did she care so much about a mass of programing and data? 

It all became clear when she laid eyes on Angel for the first time. She let go of a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Her gun nearly dropped from her hand. She was real. All too real, and Maya realized that she was in over her head. That it was time to give in to just that.


End file.
